Whew, had another rough series of night shifts, but now I have another short spell of breathing room.
This chapter… was hard. But I'm pretty happy with it. Hope you like it too!
Enjoy!
Chapter 43
Impa
An angry shriek and a heavy kick to her side roused her from her meditation. As far as beatings went, this one had actually been relatively tame…
Impa glared at her brave attacker, more with bored resentment than actual anger. She was stark naked, chained by her wrists to a rough wooden wall that had already graced her with the sweet gift of at least a dozen splinters, sitting on the compacted, cold mud-floor of a Bokoblin hut. Most of her lower body was covered in her own faeces… her captors hadn't had the courtesy of unchaining her even once in the past days… not that she had expected them too. They were stupid… but not that stupid.
The ugly creature that had roused her seemed to get more and more agitated at her unwillingness to show the reaction it had hoped for after kicking her in the stomach. Maybe it had expected her to finally catch her in a state of helplessness… Certainly, to the uninitiated her meditative state could easily be mistaken for sleep. Had she been sleeping, the cowardly assault would have surely caused her to vomit up what little stomach content she had, maybe even cracked a rib or two… Good thing her trance kept all her long-honed reflexes intact.
The wretched beast made another furious wail, gave her another ineffective kick to her thigh, then fumed off, muttering in its primitive language.
Impa sighed without her eyes leaving the doorway, the only source of light for the past week. Not the best situation she had ever found herself in, chained up in the middle of a Moblin and Bokoblin camp. She had been astounded to find that at least one of the large, pig-snouted brutes spoke passable Hylian… She had rarely had to interact with Monsters in her line of work. Usually they were simply not worth the time. And in those few cases, 'interact' had had the same meaning as it ordinarily did in her thankless, soulless profession.
Her shoulder joints ached from being in the same position for such a long time… and her wrists burned where the coarse hempen rope bit into her flesh. And, frankly, the stench, her own no less, was getting on her nerves.
Another deep sigh, making sure not to inhale through her nose. Only a little longer…
The Moblin with the odd white blotches on his skin returned… the one who spoke her language. It certainly didn't make him any more sophisticated than the little wretch that had 'awoken' her. Compared to his smell, she smelled like royal perfume.
"You talk, she-warrior!" the large thing barked, baring his large, yellow teeth.
The Shiekah just stared neutrally, as she had the many times before.
The beast bared its fangs again, in a different way that she had learned to interpret as smiling. "Today you talk. She-boss here today. We keep you for her." It actually sniggered. "This, heaven. She-boss, hell." The terribly clever monster declared before chuckling darkly and turning to leave.
They had been announcing their She-boss for two days now. Good. It appeared this uneventful period of waiting was finally drawing to a close.
She rolled her shoulders, flexed every group of muscles in turn, moved her joints as much as she possibly could. As profoundly annoying as it was, she had to admit… she was getting old. And by that she didn't just mean the ever increasing pain in her joints and the slow, but still vexingly noticeable lessening of her physical abilities… apparently age also made one soft. She huffed, not for the first time. It still filled her with anger that she had been captured… and how…
The sweltering heat of the desert sands was strangely comforting. She always had preferred sun-drenched warmth over gloomy cold… maybe it was due to her existence being so inextricably woven into the shadows that she liked this antithesis… or maybe it was simply because her aging bones didn't creak quite so annoyingly when they were warm.
The caravan she was with had been carefully picked. Little 'merchants' who sought to peddle their questionably attained wares in Saqqara where Gerudo law far outweighed the king's… Men who were down on their luck and had that haunted yet hungry look of people forced to make a new start in a strange land… And, of course, a few young lads who had a similarly hungry gaze whenever they lay eyes upon one of their caravan guides. In short, people who didn't want to be noticed and didn't care for others.
Once before Impa had been forced to traverse the desert between Saqqara and Vasheer outpost on her own… one of her early fumbles, when her head had still been filled with such trifles as pride. A quick escape had been necessary and instead of hiding she had decided that the long and cruel Shiekah training would make the trip bearable. She had indeed made it… almost. She had collapsed a hundred metres before the gates to the outpost and could still remember the relentless jokes of the Gerudo that had carried her into the shade. It had taken her nearly a week to recover her strength… and much, much longer to recover from the guilt of having to kill her helpers for seeing her… because of her weakness… and poor judgement.
Looking at the five proud Gerudo warriors, she couldn't help but be amazed, not for the first time, at how utterly unfazed they were by the crushing heat. They moved with such strength and grace as if it were a cool evening, not a single bead of sweat on their brows. She had always been fascinated with the striking, tall women of the desert. Their lives were such a marvellous contrast to her own… Loud, boisterous, showy… women with big weapons, big appetites and even bigger egos. Fiercely loyal to their friends, terrifying adversaries to those that would fault them and usually about as diplomatically inclined as a boulder launched from a catapult. Maybe, possibly, when all this madness, this brewing war was over, she too could walk openly in the sun… Impa chuckled dryly at herself. 'The only thing you'd get is a sunburn, you old fool!' She shook her head inwardly. It had taken but a few moments in the company of the Princess of Light for the shadows, which had always meant safety and comfort for her, to seem dreary and for the brightness of day to hold a thousand temptations. Was that her true power? To change people? To make them want to bask in the light she represented? Impa didn't know…
A few hours later the caravan of outcasts was disbanding in front of the Silver gates of Saqqara. She looked at the huge portal, always a marvel to behold. The sandstone was intricately carved to reliefs depicting the awesome deeds of the seven Gerudo heroines. The 'Silver gates' themselves were enormous oaken monstrosities, hardened by centuries of dry heat until they were more akin to rock, reinforced with thick steel bands in complicated patterns, polished until they gleamed silvery in the sun. The Silver gates were a perfect metaphor for the Gerudo themselves, she thought. A people with fine, masterful skills, friendly yet reserved, covered with intricate jewellery that only accentuated their steeled bodies and iron wills.
The time to pay the caravan owner had come and the time for dreamy introspection was ended. She had work to do.
Once there was no more attention resting on her, she used arguably the most important skill a Shiekah had to learn: The Aura of Discipline. Calling to the shadows that she had made her ally, she surrounded herself with a mantle of tracelessness that served as a perfect shield against any attention. She wasn't invisible as such, but no ordinary being's senses would now be able to focus on her. She was now the odd sound you heard but couldn't place, the flicker of movement you caught in the corner of your eye, that wasn't there when you turned your head. Interestingly, the discrepancy that caused in people's minds, seeing something that they were forbidden to perceive, had the additional effect that they would subconsciously avert their gaze and even step out of her path without them ever understanding why.
Concealed like this, she walked unhindered between the line of stalwart women blocking the open gate.
Saqqara was currently in its sleepy state around noon, when only the indomitable or stupid were going about their business. Impa quickly passed through the Voe-quarter, the only area of the city where Voe, men, were tolerated. This was a relatively recent development in the city's history… some of the ancient crones still saw male presence within the outer walls as complete and utter moral decline. The Voe-quarter made up 10 percent of the total area at the most and the one ingress to the Vai-only-sections was almost as heavily guarded as the Silver gates. Nevertheless, those guards posed just as much problems as the last.
Once in the beating heart of Saqqara, the Water-markets, she directed her step towards the inconspicuous shop for odds and ends, a speck of dust in the magnificent labyrinth of the bazaar. Stepping over one of the myriad little water-channels that criss-crossed through the market streets, keeping them relatively cool and fresh even in the most brutal heat, Impa entered the dark interior, filled to the brim with everyday objects and frippery on display.
Her sister didn't notice her, unsurprisingly. If this young woman had been able to see through her Aura of Discipline, Impa would have immediately promoted her to a more… active duty than being the contact for this city, tasked only with silent reconnaissance. She was apparently inventorying her jumble, counting how many useless articles she had.
Impa stepped close and, with just the lightest touch of her finger, drew a tear shape on the woman's nape. Her reaction was commendably absent… only the briefest pause in her writing showed that anything had occurred at all. The old warrior had purposefully chosen the most disruptive signal to show her presence… everything was a test…
Her young disciple finished listing the items on the shelf, then walked over to the entrance with a bored expression to pull the heavy curtains closed. The interior of the cluttered shop was now almost completely dark, but to a Shiekah, darkness was more a natural comfort than a hindrance.
"Teacher." The woman greeted her formally, even though she still couldn't see her. Impa saw her red eyes dart around, trying in vain to pierce the spell. The girl was a pure blooded Shiekah… one of the few that remained. Not that blood-status mattered in the least… it only showed how desperate her clan had become. Their numbers had dwindled so catastrophically that they had been forced to intermingle with other Hylians. The resulting children were in no way inferior, but the outsider parent was yet another security flaw… as had become painfully clear a couple of decades earlier…
Impa shed her mantle of Discipline and the girl's eyes immediately focused on her, then widened. "Grand mistress! I… How may I aid you?" she asked, obviously a bit intimidated. There was no bowing and scraping though, which was good… their order did no longer have the luxury of time, so wasting it with pointless etiquette was one of the first things Impa had forbidden in her presence. And she had been known to get… disagreeable when people lost her time that way.
"What news?" she asked briskly. Traversing the desert between Vasheer outpost and here meant nearly 6 days of being cut off from her network, a state she thoroughly despised.
"There has been another attack!" the younger woman blurted out immediately. "The message arrived only today from Selima Oasis. It is not yet public knowledge."
"Selima has been hit?" Impa asked, slightly annoyed that she had to ask for clarification, but her opposite was clearly quite shaken.
"No. Whatever horde this is, they have rounded Selima and are now between it and Kara Kara Bazaar. The attack was on a Caravan travelling in between! People going the opposite direction have found the site of the slaughter. Judging by the state of decay of the bodies, the assault happened three days before now." she reported.
Impa kept her face carefully blank, but her mind worked furiously. Kara Kara Bazaar was the closest outpost to Saqqara. The monsters were working their way north… whatever goal they had in mind, they were getting closer.
"Any news of the other raiding party? Did the two parties merge?" she asked, not expecting a satisfying answer.
"No news, no sightings. Though…" the city-contact hesitated for a second, but caught herself before her superior could get angry. "The caravan that was wiped out… I would have assumed that the reason was for the monsters to stock up on water and… meat, but…" she shook her head. "There was nothing missing! All wares, all supplies, even the bodies were untouched!"
Impa said nothing. Even if the creatures had a whole baggage train of ordnance, which would explain their slow progress, there was absolutely no reason to leave precious water and food go to waste… Despite all her training and experience a cold shudder ran down her spine, which she couldn't quite explain. Something felt disturbingly off… and she had learned to listen to her gut-feelings the rare times she had them. Still…
"Until we know otherwise, we treat this as an irrelevant oddity, understood?" she instructed sharply. She couldn't have her operatives distracted by unusualness that had no immediate impact, not when the enemy was breathing down their neck so closely.
"What progress in the vault?" the grand mistress asked, expecting the answer to be unsatisfactory.
"None. For almost a week Teacher Purrah has been down there, night and day, now that the Gerudo have loosened their patrols, but…" the girl started to explain, apparently trying to excuse her superior, which was quite unnecessary.
"No matter." Impa interrupted. "I will speak to her myself. I need to inspect the markings again."
That was an outright lie. The ancient carvings and paintings in the catacombs were as etched into her memory as her own name. She thoroughly disliked having to be untruthful to one of her own, but this knowledge was too precarious to share with anyone but the innermost circle.
"Understood, grand mistress. Will you depart at once or may I offer you something?" The young woman was a kind soul… far too kind for field duty. Few of her brothers and sisters would have dared ask her such a question. Not for fear of any real repercussions, but because you didn't want to be on the receiving end of Impa's hard stare.
"Have the entry routes changed?" she asked without dignifying the offer with an answer.
"The grounds are location for nightly tourneys to keep the warriors' spirit up. No lapse in security due to that, though. Other than that, no change." the girl reported curtly. Obviously she had understood the message.
"Good. The usual preparations for my departure, if you please! I may be leaving today again. I don't know yet." the elder informed.
"Understood, mistress. You are very welcome in my home, in case you want to spend the night." the younger woman said with a genuine smile.
Impa was on the verge of saying a few harsh words about military code of conduct, but then thought better of it. A couple of decades ago, a gentle soul like this one wouldn't ever have been roped into their clan's dangerous work, but would have stayed in their hidden village to have a peaceful life… now, sadly, even that was an impossibility… She had no right to fault the woman for her kindness.
"Thank you, child." the Shiekah chief replied, in no way indicating whether she was accepting or declining the offer. "Be ready for my return!"
And without another word she donned the mantle of Discipline once again and her helper's eyes unfocused immediately.
Darkness had fallen on Saqqara and the city opened its eyes and breathed the rapidly cooling air. The evening markets were almost as busy as in the morn, dancers, acrobats and artists were showing their skills in the busy streets.
This, when the breeze got prickly fresh but the sandstone roads still radiated their accumulated warmth, was when Saqqara, the jewel of the south, was at its most alluring, its most exciting, and its most dangerous.
Impa sat cross-legged in an alley, her back against the still hot cob wall, slowly pulling herself from her meditation. She heard the vibrant night-life from the busier streets, the puffery, the laughter, the drunken shouts and, occasionally, the surprised or panicked screams. She loved listening to the city's spiritedness. It showed her that everything was still in order, everything was still as it should be.
The second hour after nightfall had begun and it was time to move. The advantage of busy streets drunk on life was that no-one would take notice of an old hooded crone. Hiding in plain sight was so much easier than actual lurking in shadows…
As her Shiekah sister had informed her, the nightly tourney was being held. Judging by the raucous noise behind the high palace walls, the courtyard was packed full with laughing, whooping and screaming warrioresses. Yet another advantage… All attention inside the grounds would be focused on the fights, and those unlucky guards who were posted too far away to see would be disgruntled and unmotivated. Ideal conditions for an intruder such as herself.
The entire palace was on lock-down, naturally, but that was certainly no problem for someone as Impa. She moved quickly, weaving through the crowd like a leaf being blown through the forest, always dancing gracefully around any obstacle. After a while she left the busier streets behind to dart through the narrower, darker alleys that crowded around the Pillar of the Sky, the enormous sandstone rock that towered high and narrow over the desert jewel, a natural monument that characterized the city and served as a magnificent beacon for travellers over the treacherous sands.
The Sunstone Palace, which was partly hewn into the Pillar, was possibly the oldest structure in Hyrule… at least the lowest parts were. These ancient halls, which also housed the tombs of the greatest Gerudo warriors, were a veritable goldmine for anyone trying to glimpse into the past. Impa had spent uncountable hours trying to decipher ancient scripts, find all the hidden passages and chambers and learn their secrets and knowledge. Days, weeks spent crawling through dusty corridors, frustrated because every tiny bit of information coaxed from the hundreds of murals and thousands of texts lining the labyrinthine walls led only to three more questions. But now…
A rush of excitement filled her aging nerves as she sped over the smooth, sandy cobbles, effortlessly gliding in and out of her Aura of Discipline whenever she sensed someone near. Excitement and anticipation… something she rarely had the luxury of feeling these days and she couldn't help grinning a tiny bit to herself.
Something had changed! The girl had given Impa certainty without even realizing it! Purrah, her sister, was a brilliant researcher, knowledgeable in thousands of unnecessary yet fascinating things… but she was also unbelievably lazy. "For almost a week Teacher Purrah has been down there, night and day…" the young informant had said. A wry smile played on her lips. The only reason her dear sibling would even consider staying in the murky, uncomfortable catacombs for longer than a day was if something had captured her enthusiasm so completely that she couldn't wrest herself free of her studies. And for that, something extraordinary must have happened! Impa very nearly felt something like giddiness at the prospect, had her iron discipline, and her old age, not forbidden her such childish emotions.
She sped past drunk groups of singing women, a Gerudo and a Hylian girl obviously on the brink of loving each other right there in a dark corner of the alley, an apparent robbery where two large, muscular ladies were mercilessly beating a smaller one and tearing at her fine gown… none of which Impa even slowed for.
She reached the corner where the white-washed palace-wall met the natural rock of the Pillar, one of the few reliable entry points into the compound. Generations of young, feisty Gerudo warriors-in-training have used this spot that formed a handy chimney to escape their curfew and meet their loved ones or to just participate in life outside their barracks. It was the kind of open secret that was carefully guarded by the young and grudgingly tolerated by the older, who, of course, had used it as well in their earlier days. The free spirit of the desert warrioresses now served the Shiekah infiltrators well, though Impa was always amused at how tough the few hand- and footholds were to spot in the otherwise smooth stone, even if you knew they were there. Some exceptionally gifted young rock climber must have hewn them in, and in a way that they were near invisible from the streets.
Once on top of the wall Impa shrouded herself in her Discipline. The dark skinned beauties of the sands, as wild and untamed as they might seem, were infuriatingly observant and disciplined when it came to guarding their sanctuary. Once or twice one of the more seasoned fighters had actually reacted to her even when she was wrapped in her Aura! Barely… only as if distracted by the merest flicker of a candle, but still! These were not women to be trifled with! More than one Shiekah had had to flee for her life when a horde of enraged red-heads had swarmed after them like angry ants from their hill in the past… a tiny blunder here was enough… Besides… seeing her spelled death for the unlucky, gifted individual… something she tried to avoid whenever she could.
Dashing from shadow to shadow, quick as a wisp of dust in a storm, she made her way over the grounds towards the palace proper. The ubiquitous water channels that ran through the entire city were particularly dense here, allowing for an almost lush growth of plant-life… ideal for someone wishing to remain unseen. The vicious spear tips of the Gerudo guards shone coldly in the moonlight… dozens of them were patrolling the gardens alone… Impa was close enough so her knives could reach them, had she wanted to, but she kept herself hidden. One errant move, one flicker in her concentration and she would be forced to end an innocent woman's life before her own was cut short by the sharp pain of a cruel spear in her flesh. Even after all these countless infiltrations she had done, she still caught herself holding her breath occasionally, despite her knowledge that her respiration was impossible to hear.
After almost half an hour of highly concentrated movement and observation of the guards' walk patterns, she reached the side entrance that has been deemed the most easily penetrated. Two warrioresses were standing directly under the narrow archway. That was unexpected… until now their position had always been next to the entrance, not crammed in so close to each other that no passage was possible without touching either of them. A hundred different plans immediately sprang to her mind to get those two to move…
An almost imperceptible rustle to her left made her glance over. A young woman was just about to move out from behind a large bush… maybe she had relieved herself there, Impa didn't care. It only took her a split second to make up her mind an jump at the opportunity.
The ten steps to reach the girl she took in less than two seconds, still without making more sound than a stalking cat. A well aimed swift fist to the pit of the stomach to keep her from making even the slightest croak, followed by a brutally quick choke-hold that also secured her weapon hand was all it took. She would have much preferred to keep her entry completely clean of any violence, but she couldn't care for that right now. She had to hurry, this spot was invisible from the guards at the entrance, but not from any others who might pass by. She lay the unconscious woman onto the dry, prickly grass and with a well practiced motion of her other hand she recovered two tin flasks the size of a finger from the tiny pockets in her garment. From the cloth around her wrist she whisked a long needle, one of the deadliest weapons in the right hand, pierced the cork of one of the flasks until the tip of the metal was coated with its content, then lightly pricked the back of her victim's ear. The second flask she uncorked and spilled half in the girl's mouth and half on the front of her clothes. Then she darted away while stowing everything back in her guise. More than ten complicated movements executed seamlessly in about 5 seconds.
She didn't have to wait long… her choke-hold hat been accurately timed to not caused prolonged unconsciousness, but just a few moments of forced sleep. Immediately as the dazed girl was attempting to stagger up, the effect of the poison were apparent. The exudations of the Blackblood Frog were quite potent… the young woman had just received a tiny dose, but her movements were uncoordinated and her balance was compromised… her head would be spinning awfully while her bladder and possible her rear would momentarily cease their regular function. A little more of the substance and she wouldn't be able to move at all… even more and her muscles of respiration would be paralyzed, followed by her heart.
As the girl was moaning in utter confusion, she stumbled out of the bushes and right into the line of sight of the guards at the door. It took them a while until they reacted to the strange sight of one of her colleagues wobbling and grunting as if she was about to be sick. One of them, spear at the ready, moved closer until she apparently recognized the ailed woman.
"Desert Sands, Anqra!" she hissed, stepped close, then recoiled again. "Goddess, you smell like a spittin' dive in the voe district! How much did you bloody drink?!" she exclaimed, disgust clear on her face, even in the dark.
That had been the second little bottle… A particularly strong smelling spirit that went very well to complete the picture.
The distraction complete, Impa had already made her way to the archway and slithered in past the one remaining guard, not even wondering what would happen to the unlucky girl.
From this entrance it was only a few corners of barely adorned corridor until the unimposing stairway down into the cellars, and from there, through heaps upon mountains of provisions, old furniture, artworks and trash, to the almost forgotten tiny hoistway further into the rock.
The Saqqara catacombs… the air here felt so old and condensed that you might think you are breathing the history of the dead. All sound was gone… so much so that she could hear the blood-flow in her own ears. If Impa were susceptible to such things, she might feel a sense of quiet threat in these long corridors lined with the mortal remains of hundreds of mighty warriors.
The deep tombs of the Gerudo were purposefully labyrinthian. There were no plaques on the stone sarcophagi, listing names or detailing great deeds… no signs pointing to the exit, no landmarks that one might use for easy orientation and some corridors winding or even gently declining so you inadvertently found yourself on a completely different level.
This was a place for the dead… and any living foolish enough to come here might as well join them.
Stepping carefully and silently on the dusty stone, she made her way further down until the comparatively recent graves of the upper levels became the more elaborate, increasingly adorned mausoleums of the most revered Gerudo leaders of ancient times. This is where the age-old texts and murals began depicting scenes and stories from their period, fascinating and fabulous and almost certainly exaggerated.
Even further down her feet carried her until the language speaking of these events was so far removed from any Hylian or modern Gerudo dialects that almost no-one could still decipher them. Many of the passages she took were either cleverly hidden by the architecture or had to be uncovered by millennia-old mechanisms that defied explanation.
After almost an hour of silently navigating the tunnels she finally saw light shining from around a corner. One of the lowest and certainly the most fascinating tombs lay before her, dimly lit by one flickering torch. A three metre high bronze statue of a mighty Gerudo warrior stood in the middle… normally the proud women had themselves depicted in epic poses of aggression but, interestingly, this one, while her left was resting on the hilt of her sword with unmistakable meaning, had her right hand outstretched as if in greeting. Furthermore, she was the only one interred here, who had the Triforce, a symbol of the up until then hostile hylian culture, proudly displayed next to the traditional crescent moon and star on her sarcophagus and her statue.
Varaja Naboor, the unifier of the scattered tribes and peacemaker between Hylians and Gerudo… and, as legend tells, a close friend and ally to the Queen of Light, two thousand years ago…
Impa saw the rough bedroll and bag of supplies and a pile of spent torches in one of the corners of the room… What was suspiciously absent was her sister Purrah… With a faint hint of worry she rounded the statue in the middle of the room, which stood straddle-legged over the sarcophagus, and nearly gasped in surprise. The lower back half of the sarcophagus was open! She couldn't believe her eyes! They must have studied that thing for months, both from the outside and, with distaste, from the inside! How could this be?
As she stepped closer she began to understand. No part of the stone had truly slid open, but the whole massive stone coffin had risen, revealing a secret passage underneath. Impa smiled. She would have loved to be there when Purrah had found the mechanism to set this in motion… the old goat would have squealed and jumped around like a child receiving candy.
Without any hesitation she slid legs first into the stiflingly narrow and dark tunnel which, as expected, led straight down with a ladder carved right out of the rock.
She emerged into a round hall, 15 metres in diameter, lit by the torch in Purrah's hand. The air here was even poorer than above and she had to hold back a cough, but what truly took her breath away were the murals and their incredibly rich and vibrant colours, even after two millennia! Maybe even more!
Her sister, perceptive as ever, soon noticed her despite her being convinced that she hadn't made a sound. "Impa! Thank goddess you're here! Look!"
Impa looked while Purrah explained… and her insides turned to ice.
The stolen Sand Seals did not want to cooperate but the sheer relentless pressure Impa put on their minds with her Aura of Conviction kept them in line. Sweat was dripping down her back, but not from exertion. The knowledge her sister had found in that most hidden sanctuary had set her thoughts into turmoil. As Purrah had explained it, all the Triforce-symbols in the tomb had started to glow all at once in the middle of the night… then the secret entrance to the lower chamber had opened, completely without any action from her. This had happened exactly the same night the boy had made contact with the Master Sword… it appears this circular hall was meant as a place of learning for the hero, in case the most essential knowledge had gotten lost…
Now Impa had learned. There was little doubt in her mind that her sister had interpreted the story that was solely told in pictures on the round wall correctly. Every grain of knowledge the Shiekah had painfully kept or arduously recovered was true… but the last crucial last detail had only just been revealed.
The hero, the Protector, once he had proven his worth had to stand before the sword that banishes the dark as the Lady of Light sanctifies the procedure…
But… the sword must never…
She heard the arrow splitting the air but could do nothing to avoid it from hitting its mark. The crude thing thudded heavily into the Sand Seal's forehead, killing it almost instantly with a pitiful squeal. Impa had to jump to narrowly avoid the large beast's corpse and landed heavily back on her feet. Commanding the remaining Seal more with her will than with its reins, she made it swerve quickly to the left to climb the closest dune. She had not even seen her attacker yet! Maybe the higher ground could reveal who was foolish enough to assault her.
Now, as she neared the apex of the dune, she could hear the sound of battle over the incessant scraping of the wooden plank under her feet on the sands. A moment later she saw…
A group of travellers, 15 maybe, surrounded by at least twice the amount of Bokoblin, Moblin and Lizalfos acting in a group. The men and Gerudo women were fighting desperately for their lives, having formed a barely coordinated protective circle. The outcome was already certain… Impa clenched her jaw but she knew what she had to do. Or, rather what she had to restrain herself from doing…
Another arrow was flying towards her, but now that she was moving more erratically, it missed its mark by a couple of metres. Another glance… she could see, even from afar, how exhausted and weak the movements of the defenders already were. Only the fear of death, which they had to know was inevitable, was keeping them standing… That and…
Impa's mouth turned dry… what she had at first dismissed as just a pile of supplies in the middle of the circle were people! Two women… and three children…
She could just lead the Seal down the other side of the dune and she would be out of sight… That's what she had to do… She had to get her newfound knowledge to safety! She had to tell princess Zelda and her protector of the terrible danger!
But… The wet gargle of a slashed throat forced itself into her consciousness, as did the piercing scream of a child. Despite her knowing better, she looked again at the battle that was already turning into a carnage. Three of the defenders had fallen under the merciless onslaught and one Moblin's attempt to break through had only barely been stopped, its claw only centimetres from the family cowering in the middle.
She couldn't help… even were she to slaughter her way through the ranks of monsters right now, the defenders would be dead before she could reach them. At least that's what she told herself… but her mission was too critical… These lives mattered little compared to the life of all.
In a last defiant gesture she grabbed two of the evil little bombs, a fleeing Shiekah's last resort, ignited their fuses in a well-practiced motion on the iron plate on her belt and threw them so they would roll down right into the despicable horde. Maybe it would sew enough chaos that the people could flee? Or maybe the idiotic creatures would simply flee in terror of some imagined new foe that caused nasty exploding shrapnel? …but she knew she had made no difference.
Forcing herself to look away, she guided the Sand Seal down the other side, trying her hardest to convince herself that she had made the right decision. The two small explosions, followed by the muffled cries of pain from the other side of the dune did nothing to elevate her spirits, but only made her grind her teeth even harder.
Suddenly something hit the underside of her board so hard that it split clean in half and sent a painful jolt through her old knees. In the tiny instant between the impact and her shoes meeting the sand she wondered what in Din's hell she had collided with… it couldn't have been a rock!
Clenching her feet together she did her best to retain balance as the Seal dragged her further. Keeping upright and not falling over on her face took nearly all her concentration. She would have managed, but she soon realized the big problem with this newly crippled mode of transportation. The changed angle, leaning much further back so the increased friction wouldn't just snap her feet away meant that she was constantly breaking, fighting the Sand Seal's desire to get away with haste. And she had just enraged a large group of monsters, at least a third of which were the infuriatingly quick Lizalfos… Normally a desert-swimming pets of the Gerudo had no trouble escaping the foul lizards, even with a surfer chained to them… but now, with their ailing speed…
Impa heard rapid, soft footfalls behind her. She was so busy keeping her balance that she couldn't turn her head to look, but she didn't need to. She knew the sound of approaching deadly claws all too well…
Escaping was not an option.
With a last fierce push with her Aura of Conviction she sent the weak minded Sand Seal straight into unconsciousness… she hoped it would last until she was done… and she hoped that she would still be alive to use it again.
With one fluid motion she drew her staff from her back with her right and threw one of the many throwing darts hidden in her garb at the closest creature. As it was only five metres away now, there was no chance she'd miss. The heavy metal spike landed neatly in the monster's large eye, giving it just enough time for a surprised wail before life left its body. The next two weren't far off… Impa dashed right at them and used her staff's range for an extended thrust that slammed into the left one's open maw, breaking its relatively weak cervical spine and stopping it in its tracks. The third would have been on her in a split second, but she turned her forward motion into a roll, evading its claws aimed at her throat. Combining her smooth standing up motion with a wide-arched strike that made the air sing, she crushed her third assailant's windpipe and sent it flying backwards with the fearsome momentum of her weapon.
That was three… and eight more of them were already descending down the slope towards her… and she knew that the twenty or so Moblins and Bokoblins wouldn't be far behind.
Forcing her mind to snap back to be calm like an underwater lake, she laid all her focus into her Aura of Discipline, creating a barrier of imperceptibility that nothing could penetrate.
The creatures slowed, then stopped in obvious confusion. She had won a little time… Vanishing like this when something was directly looking at her, and with such animalistic hostile intent, was incredibly difficult. All her concentration was on staying hidden… she hoped she could keep this up.
Slowly, step by step she backed away, careful that she left no obvious footprints. Metre by painfully sluggish metre she gained distance as the monsters screamed in frustration and searched around for their elusive prize.
With a loud noise something popped out of the sands and grabbed her ankle in a vice grip, startling her enough for a momentary lapse in her focus. She could feel that all eyes were on her once again. She looked down and what she saw made her skin crawl. A large, black-clawed hand was coming right from the sand and… it was completely skeletonized!
She whacked at its wrist with her staff and it shattered into loose bones, but another noise, louder this time came from behind. The bones of a Moblin were quickly dragging themselves from their desert grave, then 'looking' right at her. Her Discipline was still there, but… she quickly understood that against this foe it had no effect. For the first time in many years… she felt true, mortal fear. Was the Threat truly so powerful that it could even command the dead back into battle?
The large skeleton was bearing down on her and finally she snapped out of her stupor. She shed her mantle of tracelessness since it was useless now. With a ferocious swing of her staff, strengthened by fright, she hit the whitened ribcage at her eye-level, shattering two ribs and throwing her nightmarish foe off balance. But, to her dismay, fighting a creature that felt neither pain nor fear was a very different experience than what she was used to.
Regardless of the severe injury, the monster instantly grabbed her staff with unaffected strength and pulled. Relying solely on decades of experience she allowed herself to be yanked upwards, let go of her staff, pulled out her two daggers mid flight and let them crash into the creature's skull with all her weight behind it. The blades on the thick bone did negligible damage, but the impact was enough to knock it clean off its torso. Still flying with the decapitated head in front of her, she heard the bones collapse behind her… but the horrible jaws of the beastly skeleton were still gnashing and there seemed to be a nightmare-inducing, reddish glow in its eye-sockets.
She landed back on the sand and rolled to kill her momentum. Not missing a beat she snatched her last shrapnel-bomb, ignited it, stuffed it firmly into the eye, then threw the skull back towards the rest of its remains.
The bone exploded with a satisfying snap, but there was no time feeling relieved. All remaining Lizalfos were less than three seconds away… and she had lost her staff…
Reaching into the many folds of her garb once more, Impa threw out a glass vial which shattered on the closest lizard's skull and made it cough and retch. The highly acidic fumes were much more effective in closed spaces, but she was running out of options. Another one fell from one of her darts, but then they were on her, six of them all at once. And now, using their tail, they had the advantage of range.
One particularly stupid monster that lunged at her she stabbed in heart and throat, but the other five took their time to surround her before they pounced.
She knew she had lost… Behind them she could already see the other creatures approaching in a run… which meant that they had most likely already finished their gruesome work with the group of defenders…
Lowering her gaze, she tried to find peace… for a second she contemplated trying to take her own life… but she was much too stubborn for that. She'd rather take as many as possible with her to the grave.
…no attack came… no sudden jump, no stinging pain, no sweet release…
One of the approaching Moblins barked some command in their disgusting sounding language. He approached her, staying well out of her reach… what a shame!
He snarled something at her… she couldn't understand, but the meaning was still obvious. Nevertheless, it surprised her utterly. A group of monsters taking prisoners? Could it be that they knew who she was?
In that case, if she was doomed anyway, she might as well try to learn more… who knows? Maybe they were foolish enough to let her escape later?
Feeling oddly disgusted with herself, she dropped her daggers. The large Moblin who had addressed her stepped forward and kicked her heavily down to the ground. She had anticipated it, so she wasn't hurt… but it still drove all the air out of her lungs. But before they could frisk her, she quickly took one of her needles from the cloth around her wrist in her mouth…
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…where it had stayed until now, more than one week later. She hadn't talked, and the little bit of food and drink she had received had not been a problem… Hiding weapons in even more… uncomfortable spots was always a necessary skill in case you got caught. Even if they stripped you naked, as the monsters had, you still weren't unarmed.
And since up until now she hadn't made any attempts to escape or even resist, they saw no need in trying to bind her tighter or guard her at all times. Fools.
Apparently their chief would arrive today… and he would finally receive the little surprise she had prepared.
The ill-humoured Bokoblin who's task it was to feed her had just left. Time to go to work!
Twisting in a way that very nearly dislocated her shoulder she brought her mouth close enough to her fingers that she could recover the needle that had so long been resting under her tongue that it must have left a groove.
Now came the annoying part… All her needles had a tiny saw-like roughening on one side. The rope binding her wrists was finger-thick… she would be busy for a while.
As Impa was surreptitiously sawing away at her bindings, trying to ignore the stench from all around, she hoped that her sister had had more luck leaving the desert. Naturally, she hadn't relied only on herself with such a vitally important finding. Purrah was meant to leave Saqqara three days after her to try and apply her new knowledge in the temple under Hyrule castle, to see what new things she might understand now. Thirdly, the girl staying put in the Gerudo city had orders to give a missive written by her, Impa, to the first high ranking agent that came along, which detailed the same insight.
This knowledge had gotten lost once… it would not do so again during her time as chief!
The rope was finally almost through… naturally she had chosen to cut a spot that was hidden behind her other hand. Once she was reasonably certain that only a few strands were left, she stopped and hid the needle between her fingers. None too soon had she finished… there seemed to be a commotion outside.
Impa braced herself. Whoever, or whatever, might enter would try to get her to talk, most likely with torture. Naturally, there was very little chance of that… that needle was not only to kill enemies, but also herself, should the need arise. But ideally she would rely on her opposite to want to brag. Many people were in the mood for a little swagger when their nemesis was bound and 'defenceless' before them. She would garner what information she could before things got ugly… and then she would kill them.
The normally constantly chattering and screaming Bokoblins all of a sudden got very quiet. Soft, delicate footsteps were approaching her hut where she was sitting in her own filth. She forced herself to relax, to take all tension from her body to mime the half-starved, beaten and bruised old woman that she, most assuredly, was not.
She was ready.
But the person that rounded the corner and entered her prison still made her eyes wide and her heart skip a beat. A young woman, stunningly beautiful with her fire red hair and gentle eyes… but the sheer, unadulterated malice in her grin turned it all into a hauntingly chilling grotesque. And despite how different she looked, Impa knew immediately who she was dealing with… and it turned her stomach cold.
"Koume?!" she breathed, aghast despite herself.
The addressed stopped in her tracks, her smile wavering for an instant… then it was back, amused now, but just as venomous.
"I should have known you would see through my disguise. Still, I am impressed, teacher!" she chuckled. The way she said the last word caused goosebumps on Impa's skin.
"I hoped against all reason that the destruction of the village merely coincided with your renunciation of our ways…" The old woman sighed, clear sadness in her eye. "I suspect I was wrong."
"Poor grand mistress!" Koume sneered with a sugary voice. "Always too hopeful, even in the face of irrefutable evidence."
If her young ex-student's goal was to provoke her, she was wasting her time. "Maybe I simply thought your treachery couldn't be so absolute…"
"Treachery?!" the currently red-haired beauty hissed, suddenly furious. "You dare talk to me about treachery? Who of us truly betrayed the other, teacher?! Who of us?"
"If you still see my actions as betrayal, then you have learned nothing. And instead of confronting me you took the coward's way and revealed our home to the enemy, harming all of your brothers and sisters, none of whom did anything to cause your ire. So, my dear child, it really is you, who is the traitor." Impa spoke calmly. She had spotted something in her old student… and she needed to know more.
Koume's previously carefully passive face turned to a terribly unsightly grimace. She growled like an enraged animal and made a step closer as if to try to strangle her old teacher right then and there… This was odd and unsettling, to say the least. Whatever the young woman had become, she had never, ever been this wild, this close to losing control. Impa had no idea how she maintained this perfect guise of face, body shape and hair that weren't her own… but it seemed this power came at a price…
With obvious effort, the traitor composed herself. She straightened her hair and re-established the sweet, threatening smile on her features.
"Listen to you… and look at you… old… defeated… breasts sagging, shit smeared all over you, stinking to the heavens… and still you act as if you had even a shred of control over the situation. Do you not understand the situation you're in, crone? Do you truly not see?" she giggled, acting again like the young girl she embodied currently.
"Maybe I think I can still reason with you…" Impa said more softly. These mood swings her opposite had weren't play-acted… it was as if she barely had any control over her emotions any more… "You cannot undo the damage you have done… too many have suffered because of it. But we still need someone with you exceptional talents. You can still help so many of us!" To her own surprise, Koume's features became softer, maybe even thoughtful. "You must have been lonely… you never were separated from your sister this long. She has been missing you terribly, Koume… I'm sure she'd want to…"
The cold, evil fire in the woman's eyes reignited at the sound of her own name. "I have no sister, you old bitch!" she spat. "And the next time you use that name to address me I will gouge out your eyes! I have left this life behind, the filthy existence with you or any of you fucking mongrels! I need no name anymore! I need none of your wretched lies! You want to reason with me? I have seen reason! I have seen true power! I have seen glory! And it all was as far away as possible from you and everything you stand for. Lord Ganon will come onto this earth like a tempest of purifying fire and scrape off noisome scabs like you! And I will be by his side and rejoice when all of you scream in impotent fear and I will smile when your screams are finally silenced!"
Spittle was hanging from her lips, her eyes were maniacally wide open and twitching, and her fingers were furiously working as if she had a seizure. Impa's mouth hung open, startled at the terrible display and infinitely saddened at this frightening dementia that seemed to have this young girl in its grip. A child… she had recovered her and her sister at a young age… she had always thought of them as part of her family… and to see this brilliant mind, her little genius Koume, so horrifyingly twisted by the power she had sworn to destroy nearly broke her heart.
But she knew what she had to do. She would shed a silent tear later…
With a flick of her wrist her bindings came undone and she lunged at her old protégé with everything she got. She had chosen her moment well… Koume was so engrossed in her rave that she had forgotten her most important lesson: Never turn your back to this old crone.
The needle found its mark, just below the shoulder-blade it pierced first skin, then muscle, then lung. Impa meant to strike a second time but for that Koume was too quick and too well trained. A pained grunt was all that escaped her former student before they engaged in a fearsomely fast mêlée. What advantage the younger woman had in speed of youth, Impa had in experience and technique. And it was only a matter of time before Koume's breath would fail her, once her lung collapsed.
"You think you can defeat me with a needle, you fucking ancient shit?!" she screamed, obviously nearly mindless in her rage.
Scream! Scream all you want, girl, your end will come even sooner! The student was fighting well, but to her misfortune, the master was still far superior. Impa weaved around the younger woman, whose moves she had not only taught her, but who had seen them a million times before. And, nasty old baggage that she was, she had not yet parted with her most evil little tricks.
With a quick swipe Impa flicked her own excrement that still clung to her nude bottom right into Koume's face before kicking heavily against her knee. Before the girl could even begin her enraged and disgusted shriek, she had already received her opponent's needle in her other lung and the left brachial nerve-plexus, which didn't immobilize, but sent agony through her entire left side.
The grand mistress, with profound sadness in her heart, was ready to end it. Never before did she have to end another Shiekah's life… or the life of someone she loved… but there was no hesitation regardless.
The sharp point was speeding unstoppably towards her youngling's spinal cord. The steel pierced flesh… and a jolt coursed through Impa that instantly paralyzed all her muscles and drove the breath from her chest.
Koume slowly rose and, impossibly, even increased the extreme pressure she was exerting on her enemy's mind. She looked at her old teacher… And in her red eyes was something more… a swirling black vortex of death that had the infinite dark nought of the void at its end… it promised nothing but absolute chaos and destruction.
Had she been able to, Impa would shudder. For the first time, through the eyes of her beloved disciple, she experienced a miniscule glimpse of the Threat's power… and the sheer force of this ancient, diabolic will was nearly enough to just blast her mind to oblivion.
How could they have all been so blind? Against this infinite might… what difference could they possibly make?
…no. No! This was not the Threat itself! This was the girl in front of her… strengthened, yes… strengthened beyond her wildest dreams, but the real adversary was still sealed away! And it was her bloody duty to see it remain that way!
Scratching together the last, nearly strangled specks of her own power she shielded her mind from the titanic onslaught of raw force coming from Koume.
She couldn't win… had it only been physical or mental prowess, Impa would have been the victor… but against this abject insanity she was hopelessly outmatched.
Fleeing was her only option.
Quick as a striking viper Impa reached into her opponent's grandiose garb and found what she was looking for. A little bomb, just like the ones she had used! She ignited it within Koume's clothes, then removed her hand. The shield she had erected with the last grit she could muster, shattered.
Luckily for her, despite what immense concentration it must cost her, the girl noticed what her teacher had done and had no choice but to deal with the ever shortening fuse in the folds of her clothes.
That gave Impa the breathing room she needed to push her aside and run from the hut, stark naked and still surrounded on all sides by Moblins and their smaller cousins.
Without slowing, she only had a few seconds of surprise before all hell would break loose, she dashed to the rough enclosure where she had seen the monsters keep a few stolen cows when she had arrived. Extending her Aura of Conviction to the max, she incited an instant panic in their usually so sluggish minds. All at once the ponderous beasts, with loud mooing, started stampeding towards the woods, crushing the rickety fence as if it were nothing. Keeping the control she had on their minds strong, Impa hastily jumped on the nearest cow's back and held tight with her hands around its neck and her knees around its torso. She felt a sudden stinging pain in her thigh and she knew she had been hit. She held her breath until the clearing with the camp was out of sight and the screaming of the Bokoblin was swallowed by the woods.
She looked down at her leg and saw a fine looking knife deeply imbedded in her flesh. The pain that had previously been but a sting in the background of her attention now rose to a fiery crescendo. She hoped that the blade hadn't been poisoned… but her own excrement that had caked her skin there might suffice to infect the wound anyway. It was bleeding quite heavily…
The galloping cattle carried her into the forest and blessedly away from the monsters and the demon, who had once been like a daughter. The grief hit her like a strike to the heart and she had to grind her teeth to keep her eyes focused. What more needed to be lost before this madness could be defeated?
So tell me: Do you want more chapters like this? Giving the other characters a bit of limelight? I can't promise they would all be this extensive, but... eh, we'll see!